


Not so clever lies

by NobleTemple



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU where they actually sit down and talk, Canon Compliant, Coda of sorts, Dean is Bad at Feelings, M/M, Post-Episode: s12e12 Stuck In The Middle (With You), Sam Knows, Set anytime between 12x15 and 12x19, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 05:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10734738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NobleTemple/pseuds/NobleTemple
Summary: “I want to tell that I'm sorry. I was dying and I thought- I wasn't thinking straight. Please disregard what I said if it makes you uncomfortable.”Dean bit the inside of his cheek. “So – what? You didn't mean what you said? Is that it?”





	Not so clever lies

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sad and what do you do when you're sad? You make your favorite characters suffer. I actually feel better now.
> 
> (I'm not a native speaker so please let me know of any grammatical errors/typos.)

“This is my voice mail. Make your voice a mail.”

A frustrated sigh escaped Dean’s lips as he leaned against the wall in the corridor.

“C'mon man. I haven't heard from you in weeks and I-”, another sigh, “look, man, I'm worried, okay? Just... just let me know that you're- you're alright.”

He paused, squeezing his eyes shut. He continued, his voice lower, almost a whisper.

“I know I messed up. Bad. I... I'm sorry. But please. This silent treatment is driving me nuts. I just need to know you're getting these. You- you don't even have to call. Shoot me a text. One stupid emoticon is enough. Heck, send it to Sam if you don't wanna talk to me. Send an email, a post-card, smoke signals, I think there's even a telegraph in the basement somewhere...”

Biting his lip, he stopped. He was babbling.

“Just let me- _us_ know you're still... out there.”

Dean ended the call and let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Well, that was embarrassing. But he didn't really care. He hadn't heard from his friend since that ominous phone call and it worried him to no end.

He had known something was wrong. Cas hadn't sounded quite _right_ , not that he could explain or even put his finger on why. It had just been a feeling. He knew him too well.

Now, after weeks without any sign of life, he was sure something was up. He had left so many voice mails he lost count, texted and even prayed and got nowhere. Nothing when Claire was in danger. Not a peep when they found Kelly Kline (and lost her again).

Which didn't make sense. The Cas he knew would drop everything to help Claire. The last he heard Cas was looking for Kelly. So how come he was just... not where he needed to be?

At night, when everything was quiet, his mind would wander to the darkest places. To the only explanations.   
In his dreams he would see Cas. Captured. Tortured. Worse.

So he fell back into his old habits. Working cases. Drinking himself to sleep. Being a little shit to Sam. Sleeping with hot waitresses. But it seemed to help less and less, which just added to his frustration. He felt so helpless that he wanted to scream, to smash everything to pieces.

“No word from Cas?”

Sam's voice startled him. How can a guy that ginormous not make any sound walking? Dean's eyes grew wide for a split second, before he blinked a few times and donned a stony mask.

“Nah, still AWOL”, he said matter-of-factly. Not knowing how long Sam had been listening, he hoped he hadn't picked up on what he said. Or at least was decent enough to--

“So, how exactly did you mess up?”

God-fucking-damnit.

“None'a your business, Sammy”, Dean growled, more hostile than he intended to.   
His brother seemed unfazed.

“I know you two have that profound bond or whatever”, Dean rolled his eyes at that, “but he's my friend, too. I worry about him, too. More importantly, I worry about _you_. You're out of your mind right now-”  
“I'm not-”  
“Yes you are. And I'm scared, dude. You throw yourself into work. You're jumping to cases that barely are cases. You drink yourself to sleep, if you sleep at all. I'm scared you're gonna get yourself hurt or killed.”  
“Winchester coping mechanism, huh?”, Dean joked, but realized Sam wasn't going to let him off the hook, not with _that_ look on his face. His brother wanted him to talk. Like _talk_ talk. About his feelings.

And the truth was: Dean wanted to talk, too. He was sick and tired of always burying that stuff deep inside him. It wasn't healthy and he knew it. Had known for a long time. So after moving to the kitchen and grabbing a cold one, he finally opened up and told Sam what happened.

 

It was after they came home from Ramiel's barn. The three of them were sitting in the war room, drinking in silence, everyone lost in their own thoughts. After a while Sam excused himself to go bed.

“Cas-”  
“Dean-”

They spoke at the same, both fell silent again. Dean took a deep breath, his heart pounding. “You first.”

The angel leaned forward in his seat, looking down at his folded hands.

“I want to tell that I'm sorry. I was dying and I thought- I wasn't thinking straight. Please disregard what I said if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Dean bit the inside of his cheek. “So – what? You didn't mean what you said? Is that it?” He shouldn't be this angry. He didn't mean to be. It had been a hard day for all of them, both physically and mentally draining.

This time Castiel looked him directly in the eye and his already pounding heart picked up speed. This was it. The moment of truth. No more dancing around the subject like two stupid teenager.

“No, Dean, I meant every word of it. I still do. You are my family and I love all of you. But – you, Dean, I love you, in every sense of the word. In a vastly different way than Sam or Mary. And I wanted you to know that before I died. I realize the feeling is not mutual however and so I ask you to please forget about it.”

Dean couldn't stand the sad look in those deep blue eyes. He looked at the beer bottle in his hand and began picking at the edges with his thumb nail while processing the words.

He had known the moment the words had left Cas's mouth, right there on that stupid dirty couch. Had seen the look on his face and how he had avoided eye contact with him. It had broken his heart.

But then Crowley, of all people, had saved Cas. Dean had hoped they had some kind of silent agreement to never touch that subject again. Like they did for at least the last five years.

No such luck. The angel just had to open his mouth. Dean could lie about it, sure. He could tell him that, yeah, they would just forget it ever happened. He didn't want to, though, because if he did, it might just happen again. Their lives were on the line every other day after all.

“You're wrong”, his voice was barely audible, a hoarse whisper. He was still not looking at Cas. “The problem isn't that I don't-- the problem is I do and-- I can't. We- can't.”

He didn't even know where he was going with this, didn't know what exactly it was that he wanted to say, but he also didn't care. He had to clear his system.

Feeling the angels eyes fixed on this face, Dean couldn't stop himself.

Everything he had been telling himself for years, everything he kept shoved down, it all came out at once.

“You 'n' me, that's just-- it's never gonna work. It's messed up. On so many levels. I mean- what about Sam? I promised him I would _never_ put anything in front of him-”

“Dean, I would never ask y--”

“ **I know**. I know. But with you... I don't know that I could keep that promise. And what about Claire? Have you thought about her? You still look like her old man. That is just- I don't know. Weird? And the angels. Like Ishim. That shit would get so much worse. They're already after our asses as is. Demons all the same. Shit, even Amara used you to get to me. And there's mom- she died 30 years ago and- times were different back then. I don't know- I don't want to overwhelm her. She can barely cope as is and I- I don't wanna lose her again. And all the shit that's going on? Lucifer's baby, those British dicks, it's too much, man, there's no time to-”

Dean snapped his mouth shut. He was rambling and forgot to breathe and what was breathing even? His lungs filled with desperately needed air.

“I just don't want to ruin our friendship, y'know? It's- it's good the way it is, how things are right now. It works. Let's- just- keep it that way, okay?”

God, he hated himself so much right now. It just hurt to say it out loud.

Castiel was quiet for some time, then he smiled. That sad little smile Dean knew so well.

“Yes, I understand.”

Of course you fucking do, Dean thought. It was infuriating. Cas always understood. Dean wanted him to get angry at him, yell at him, punch him even. Like a long time ago in an alley far away. He deserved it.

But they were beyond that now. The angel cared too much for him. And it broke Dean's heart.

“So... we cool? Everything stays the same and we- just forget about it?” Dean felt a lump in his throat and swallowed. Don't forget to breathe, he told himself. That stuff's important.

Castiel nodded, that sad smile still on his face. “Of course.”

That was even worse. He has seen “The Princess Bride”. He knew what it meant whenever Cas said those words. _As you wish..._  
A scream was rising in his chest again, deep, dark, animalistic. He swallowed it down again.

“Good. Good...” Silence fell. Dean was back to staring at the bottle in his hand, this time his mind was completely empty. After a few minutes he put the bottle down, stretched and stood up.

“Well, I'm beat. See ya tomorrow.” As he walked past he put a hand on Cas's shoulder. He was trying to be normal, to go back to the status quo, but it felt so wrong. Cas obviously felt the same way, as Dean could feel him tense up under his touch.

Since then, he had had a lot of time to think about what he had said. To hate himself even more than before.

 

Sam didn't say anything. He was rubbing the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed and Dean was thankful for that, this way he couldn't see his brothers accusatory glare. It wouldn't last for long, but it was nice while it lasted.

“I would tell you that you're a giant idiot but you probably already know that.”

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed. “Yeah, no surprise there.”

“Okay, first things first”, he sounded as if he was about to solve some math problem, “don't use other people to excuse your own insecurities.”

“I don't-”

“ **Yes** , you do. This has nothing to do with me or mom or Claire. This is all about YOU. The thing with the angels and demons I get, but as you said: They already act like you're an item. Nothing would change there. Mom and I and everybody else who loves you? Again, nothing would change. And Claire is fine. She calls you her step-dad for crying out loud.”

Dean frowned. “No, she doesn't.”

“Yes, she does. Not to your face, but Jody told me. She loves you, too, dude. No, this is all about you. You're scared. Scared of being happy. Come on. You deserve this. This is good. Good things happen.”

_Good things do happen, Dean._

A thousand thoughts ran through his mind. He knew Sam was right. He wanted this conversation to be over, to joke his way out of it but at the same time he didn't. This was the most honest talk they have had in a long time. As equals.

Sam was his little brother but if he was completely honest, Dean more often than not felt like a parent to him. He pretty much raised him on his own after all. Parents don't talk to their kids about their feelings, not like this.  
But Sam wasn't a child anymore, he certainly wasn't his. He was a grown (overgrown) man. His brother. It was time Dean let go and treated him as equal.

“I'm a screw up, Sam. I'm not scared of being happy, that's not it. I'm scared of screwing things up and losing him. For good. Like Lisa.”

“Lisa wasn't your fault.”

“Yes it was. If it weren't for me-”

“If it weren't for you she and Ben would've died long before that.”

Dean's eyes widened in shock.

“You saved them. They wouldn't be alive today without you. While we're at it, do you think she would've ever sacrificed Ben to be with you?”

“What? No! That's crazy!”

“Then why do you think your promise to me – which is ridiculous to begin with, I can take care of myself - “ (Dean rolled his eyes at this) “why would that even matter? It's not either-or, Dean. People love their family and their partner at the same time. It's normal. Love is not a competition. And might I add, you can't possibly screw up more than you already have.”

That hurt. He knew it was true, but still. Hearing it like this just made him realize it even more. Sam was right. With everything.

“Dean, look at our lives. We can never catch a break. It's literally never the right time. For anything. You have to make the time. There are so many possibilities. I mean- you spend about an hour each day just trying to reach him. You could spend that time being disgustingly in love instead.”

A slight smirk crossed Dean's lips. “Like you and Eileen?”

Sam scowled. “Eavesdropping is not cool. But yeah, like Eileen and I. We don't wait for the time to be right, we make the time. Even if it's just a text.”

Sometimes Dean wondered who this giant in front of him was. This wasn't his baby brother Sammy who needed rescue from some stupid bullies. This was Sam Winchester, an adult. So much better and smarter than Dean at all this adult stuff. The stuff that mattered.

That adult man deconstructed every single argument – no, every single excuse, every **lie** Dean had told himself over the years. And it fucking hurt. He felt like a part of him had just died, the part that held him back, that kept him from being happy. From being himself. From getting what he wanted.

What he wanted was Cas.

He was finally ready, truly ready, to admit it. He loved that weird, dorky little guy with his messy hair and his ill-fitting suit and his Enochian humor and his stupidly blue eyes and his-

His heart grew heavy as he realized how much he actually missed him. He closed his burning eyes and rubbed at them.

There was still one thing left, one last, insignificant detail. The way his brother talked, pushed him to admit his feelings in this sappy chick-flick moment, he already knew the answer to it. But he needed to hear it. Toxic masculinity be damned.

“It's just weird, y'know. I've never been in a- a relationship with a guy.”  
“Not publicly.”  
“Not- WHAT?” He hadn't expected this in the slightest.

Sam scoffed. “C'mon, you really think I didn't know? We've shared a room pretty much our entire lives. I found your porn on more than one occasion. You don't even bother deleting your browser history when you use my laptop. Also I've had random guys come up to me asking me why you didn't call them back.”

“You **KNEW**? And you never said anything?”

“I was waiting for you to come out to me on your own, but you never did”, Sam said, shrugging. “Then again, I guess you kinda did. Purgatory in Miami? Yeah, I googled that. And your”, airquotes, “'gay thing' with Aaron? Come to think of it, you weren't exactly subtle.”

Dean held up a hand defensively. “Dude, I'm not gay.”

  
“I never said you were. It's 2017. It's called bisexual and it's absolutely okay. It doesn't make a difference, doesn't change who you are. Like I said, I never knew you any other way. I never looked down on you. If anything I looked up to. Considering how we grew up, considering... well, dad, I was and still am proud of you. Proud to be your brother.”

Dean could tell Sam was earnest. He didn't judge him. Hell, if he had known that long...  
There was this lump in his throat, his eyes burned, he was shaking slightly and it took all he had not to break down crying right then and there and he wasn't ready for _that_. Yet.

“For what it's worth”, Sam continued, “there's no need to even make it public. You don't have tell anyone. Not even mom. It's between you and Cas.”

“Yeah, you're right. With everything.” His voice cracked, this was getting embarrassing. Clearing his throat he continued.

“We still need to find him first, though. You think he's okay?”  
“Honestly, I don't know. He's been MIA before, but this- But I'm sure he's alive”, Sam hastily added after seeing the look on his brothers face. “We would've heard if...”

“Dead angels tend to end up on the news, yeah.” Or at the very least in tinhat newspapers, which they also owned every subscription to.   
“Also I know for a fact Crowley has eyes on him. He would've rubbed it in my face if, y'know.”

“Right. He'll come back. He always does.”   
“Yeah.”

They sat in silence for while.

“Speaking of...” Dean decidedly did not like that grin on Sam's face. “What exactly happened between you and Crowley? When you were a demon?”

The confused look on Dean's face quickly turned into disgust when he realized what Sam was getting at. “Aw, dude, c'mon, no. NO! That's-- just **no**! We agreed to never talk about that time!”

“So... what? What happens at the Flamingo Lounge stays at the Flamingo Lounge?” Sam raised his eyebrows and gave him a pointed look.

Of course he fucking knew just what kind of bar the Flamingo Lounge was.

“Yeah, we're done here. Good talk, Sammy.” Dean stood up and walked to the door.

“Dean! I thought we were finally all open about this stuff”, Sam called after him, laughing.

“Screw you”, Dean shot back, grinning.

“Love you, too, jerk.”

“Bitch.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm done with this. I swear I'm almost as emotionally constipated as Dean is and I don't know what more to add.
> 
> Feedback is greatly appreciated.
> 
> Find me on tumblr: misanthropicphilantropist.tumblr.com


End file.
